


just a migraine fic. at this point it should not surprise anyone that i can't write titles

by taylor_tut



Series: Whump Bingo [7]
Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Gen, Headaches & Migraines, Sick Character, Sickfic, but enough to not kill izaya, not that much, shizuo cares a little, sick izaya orihara
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-23 20:43:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14340546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taylor_tut/pseuds/taylor_tut
Summary: From whump bingo on my tumblr: Izaya gets a migraine and goes to see Shinra. Of course, Shinra's late and Shizuo's waiting for him, too. Shinra does the bare minimum to keep him from clawing his own eyes out.





	just a migraine fic. at this point it should not surprise anyone that i can't write titles

I haven’t gotten any other Izaya prompts so I’m going to whump him >:)

It had been years since Izaya had gotten a headache this bad.

It wasn’t often that Izaya took taxis. He didn’t trust them, not to mention found them dirty and weird-smelling. However, he needed to get to Shinra, and this was the only way he could think to do it, so he bit the bullet and called a cab.

He wasn’t quite sure how much he’d tipped the driver--apparently more than he’d thought, based on the gracious and elated “thank you, sir!” that followed him as he stumbled out the door.

After a few steps, it was clear that he wasn’t going to make it all the way to Shinra’s door before his stomach threw in the towel. Izaya groaned, pressing a hand over his eyes to block the sun as he stumbled toward the bushes and gagged a few times before emptying the meager contents of his stomach into them. His abdomen was sore and still spasming by the time he felt that he was done, but just as he was about to try once more to make it to Shinra’s apartment, he realized with a grimace that he wasn’t alone.

“Oh, come on,” an angry voice “the one day I come to see Shinra, you’re here?”

Izaya did his best to plaster on a smile. “Shizu-chan,” he drawled, “I could say the same.”

“I told you, don’t call me that,” he muttered. 

Izaya shrugged, tugging the door open with a dramatic, if somewhat wobbly, arm gesture to let Shizuo through. 

Celty was sitting on the couch watching television when the two entered.

“Shinra’s out,” she typed out. “He will be for probably another hour.” She showed the phone to both of them, but Izaya found that he couldn’t read the words through the bleary fisheye of his vision.

Shinra groaned. ‘Great,” he grumbled. “Why can’t he keep a damn meeting time when he sets it?”

Celty shrugged. 

“Well, Flea, I’ll call you when I’m finished talkin’ with him. You can go.”

Izaya really, really couldn’t.

“Unfortunately, my business with him is pressing,” he said, his tone sounding strained even despite his best efforts. 

Shizuo raised an eyebrow in removed curiosity. “Business or pleasure?” he asked. 

“Both, neither,” he replied vaguely, plopping heavily into the armchair. Well, even if Shinra would be a while, at least Celty was there to stop Shizuo from killing him. Maybe he could even manage to nap while he waited. He closed his eyes against the harsh lights of the room, but the noise of the television still grated on his ears. “Celty, mind turning the TV down?”

She turned it off. He heard her type out a message that he didn’t even make an effort to pretend to read. He was tired and dizzy and in a fuck-ton of pain, and he was hoping against hope that maybe if he was just quiet and didn’t poke the bear, that Shizuo would leave him alone.

Whatever she’d typed had apparently been a goodbye, because the next thing Izaya heard was the click of the door behind her.

“I swear,” Shizuo began, “it’s like Shinra plans this shit just to annoy me.” 

Izaya couldn’t do more than grunt in the affirmative. Stop talking; can’t we just sit in silence? The silence was nice. He missed it.

“I mean, really, he’s gonna think he can have us both in his apartment and expect me not to destroy all his furniture beating the shit out of you?” 

At this point, it would be welcome, Izaya thought. Literally, just knock him out. 

“I might just have to teach him a lesson in how naive that is,” he threatened, standing. Izaya couldn’t open his eyes; couldn’t even take his hand off from covering them. The migraine was so blindingly painful that whatever Shizuo could hit him with would be an improvement. 

“What the hell’s the matter with you?” Shizuo bit. “Not gonna say anything?” Izaya didn’t move. “Come on, you shitty flea, let’s see you--”

“Shizu-chan,” Izaya interrupted, his voice clearly pained. “Not now.”

Shizuo blinked confusedly. Then he put two and two together. 

“Not business or pleasure,” he said, “then you’re actually sick.”

“Something like that,” Izaya said through a clenched jaw. His breathing was measured, four counts in and eight out, trying to keep the pain from swallowing him. Ride the wave, don’t let it crash over you.

“Looks bad,” Shizuo commented, “flu or somethin’?” Izaya knew that his curiosity was purely malicious, and normally this would be the kind of game he’d love to play, but right now, he just wanted Shizuo to stop fucking talking.

“Headache,” he managed through gritted teeth, “so shut up.”

Shizuo frowned, taking in Izaya’s pale face and tight posture. He decided that it was probably better not to say anything more about it, so he opted to take out his phone instead, mindlessly playing some game to pass the time.

It wasn’t until Izaya shot up and rushed to the bathroom to throw up that Shizuo even paid him another glance. 

“Fuck, Flea,” he muttered, hovering in the open doorway. 

“Shut the door.”

Shizuo rolled his eyes. “I’ll stand wherever I like.”

Izaya shook his head. “Light,” he moaned, pressing his face deep into the crook of his elbow.

Shizuo did as he was told and backed out of the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. “What do you need?” he called through the door, feeling vaguely sorry for Izaya. It was hard to see anyone look that miserable, no matter how much he hated them.

“Death,” Izaya croaked.

“I meant what pills does Shinra give you,” he clarified, “but either can be arranged.” 

“I’d prefer death,” Izaya repeated. Shizuo found a heavy-duty painkiller in Shinra’s medicine cabinet and opened the bathroom door just a slit to toss the bottle in like a grenade. 

“Try these first,” he said. He listened as Izaya fumbled with the cap, trying and failing to get it off before throwing it back down with a curse, and he sighed. 

“Cover your eyes,” he demanded, “I’m opening the door.” Izaya yelped in pain despite the fact that he shouldn’t be able to see anything at all.

“Can you seriously not figure out the child-lock cap?” he accused, mocking, bordering concerned. 

“Can’t see it,” Izaya slurred. Oh, fuck. His speech was starting to suffer. He really HADN’T been this bad in years, maybe ever. “Blurry.”

Shizuo frowned. “Are you sure Shinra’s gonna get here before you die?” he asked, not sure what he’d even do if Izaya replied in the negative.

“Just a migraine,” he explained. “I wanna lie down.” 

Shizuo nodded. “Think you’re done here?” 

Izaya nodded, then pressed his face to Shizuo’s collarbone. “If you tell anyone about this you’re dead,” Shizuo warned. 

Izaya offered a weak thumbs up, too tired to argue any further. 

Shizuo deposited Izaya on Shinra’s bed--it’s what he fuckin’ deserved for being late to their meeting--and turned to leave. 

“Don’t get me if you need anything,” he warned. “Next time I see your face, all bets are off, and I’ll kill you, got it?”

Izaya just rolled over on his side. Damn Flea. Well, if he died in Shinra’s bed, the idiot would probably assume that Shizuo had killed him and dumped the body. That would be more of a hassle than it would be worth, he decided, making himself as comfortable as he could manage on the floor facing the bed. Really, it wasn’t for Izaya’s safety. A few pictures of him incapacitated by a headache would be good blackmail material, and of course, it was never a bad thing to have Shinra owe him a favor.

He told himself that as he sat there for the rest of the evening.


End file.
